Ciúnas - Unclassified

Cold Toddy – from the Ciúnas Archive

 

pexels-photo-315720.jpeg

Cold Toddy

A Paddy O’Shaugnessy Story

 

 Deepest Russia.  – Present Day

The snow is falling hard in Ust’-Avam in central Russia. The landscape is covered in white as far as the eye can see. From a distance it looks like small rocks on the hill, however on closer inspection, there is a big massive caterpillar shape building decked in white camouflage that is built into the mountain.

Inside the insect like residence, 2 men are having a meeting in a boardroom with 1 security guard manning the door. There are mini shot glasses in front of them.

“Let us have a toast, Imaslav” said Alexander, the uglier looking guy of the two. He is a known associate of a large group called “VM Syndicate”, a mischievous group of renegades who like to influence events in their favour for profit, no matter the consequences. Alexander has a deep scar coming across his face, you would say it was put in a fight, but it was common knowledge that he had cut himself when shaving when he was a teenager.

“To what?” said Imaslav Foru, an oligarch from the east of Russian with interest in many things like Oil, Gas, and novelty clog earrings. He was the better looking of the two with very smooth looking blond hair.

“To world domination by The VM Syndicate.”

“To the VM Syndicate” they toast together.

They laugh and clink glasses and down the shot.

“What is this muck?” spat out Imaslav as quickly as he tasted the drink.

“Why its Russian whiskey” replied Alexander confidently not knowing anything was wrong.

“We are vodka country! What are you doing? Are you a fool?”

“How dare you. I’m trying to diversify, it’s called moving on. Why have one when you can have all. You not like?”

“It is disgusting. I’ve never tasted something so bad in my life and I have eaten my own shit as part of an initiation ceremony to an American frat house. I’m cancelling the deal as you are a deranged man. Someone who thinks Russia can do whiskey is a crazy person.”

“There is also something that is strictly historically Russian…. ice cold snow.”

And Alexander presses a large red button underneath his side of the table.

“But snow is in the…” A chute opens below Imaslav’s feet and he shouts “ANTARTAAAARRRRIIICAA…”

Imaslav fell into sub 40 degree cold onto a cushion of snow beneath the building. It won’t take him long to die,5 minutes perhaps, despite the soft landing, as there are arctic winds.

“He is right” questioned Alexander.

“Yeah I was thinking snow is all over,” said the bodyguard at the door. His name was Rolph Munchin, a beast of a man with a degree in Aerospace engineering, however, liked to crack skulls so had this job.

“No the whiskey you fool. We have to sort this out. We must dominate the hard drink market.”

“How boss?”

“I have a plan or should I say a ‘syndicated’ plan”

“So it’s not your thinking, you are just copying them?”

“Shut up Rolph”.

 

Ireland – Rural village(less than 12 pubs) – Next day.

 

A pub landlord wakes up cheerfully to start the new day going through his routine.

“Ahh, it’s a great day to be alive. Guinness pumps check…check. And now some whiskey in the jar…che…ha, where is it?”

He looks frantically around the bar. Upending everything from glasses to towels

“Where is the whiskey? Ah feck it anyway”

He motions to the stairway and gives a call to his wife.

“Mary! Are you awake? Where is the whiskey? It was here last night.”

“Obviously I’m now awake with your shouting. We had that rugby crew in last night, probably robbed it. Ring the distributors.”

“Right so”

The landlord dialed the speed dial button on his novelty burger phone for the brewery and a voice came over the phone:

“WE ARE UNABLE TO CONNECT YOU CALL AT THE MOMENT.”

“That’s strange…”

In bursts a man to the pub.

“Sorry we are closed,” the barman said more forcefully.

“The beender ferewradsfewrfrf!”

“What?”

“The beender ferewradsfewrfrf”he murmured louder

“Calm down. Speak slowly.”

“whiskey… smoke” whilst miming out the actions.

“The factory is on fire?”

And off they went outside and they were confronted by a huge blaze on the hill side where the whiskey factory had been.

“Ahh feck” exclaimed the bartender.

 

 

Meanwhile, at Irish Secret Service (Ciúnas) headquarters or the G.P.O, which is a 2 story house and garden close to Phoenix Park in a housing estate, Mike has a lady friend over at his office after hours.

“Phew, that was a hard day. I need drink. Night cap?”

“Ok” giving him a smile that would sink 1000 ships.

“I’ll just get the drinks in my drawer,” said Mikel trying to be casual.

“Ohh it doesn’t seem to be here. Should be somewhere” he said after pulling open the drawer.  He then upends the office looking for it.

“Somewhere here, wait a sec.”

“Look it’s not here I’ll think I’ll just head home,” the woman said whilst turning to the door.

“Ahh no, we were going to have sex” pleaded Mike.

“How did you come to that conclusion?” the woman asked.

“You agreed to come to the office.”

“I’m an alcoholic.”

“Oh right. My bad. Chat you tomorrow.”

She leaves.

He picks up the phone.

“Hello, Mr. President, we have an emergency…sorry it’s late… ok, chat tomorrow, bye bye bye byebyeee”

 

General Protection Office – Ciúnas Headquarters – Next Day

 

The office is in turmoil. Everyone is on edge. They haven’t had their morning whiskey.

Rí, Aisling, Paddy were in Mike’s office.

“This could mean disaster for the country” a worried Rí, the Tech guy for Ciúnas, announced to the office.

“Do we know who is behind it?”Aisling questioned Mike.

“No, not yet we are scouring the internet to see if anyone has made any claims” Michael replied.

“It could be the Pioneers, they hate drink,” Aisling thought out loud.

“They say it’s the devil juice” added Rí.

“I will let you know when I know, Now leave me alone whilst I look up kittens on you tube.”

Mike clicked open the computer and up popped an ad before a video of ‘Kittens seeing reflection for the first time’.

“There is only one whiskey, Russian whiskey. We know no borders. Drink now.”

“Russia whiskey? Of course” thought Mike outloud.

“But why?” Asked Ashling.

“I can only think greed, money, and of course the subsequent tourism trade. Alcohol tourism has gone through a rough time, people don’t just want to see sights sober, they want to see them drunk. We all need the escapism, or else we have to deal with our daily lives throws against us” suggested Michael.

“Perish the thought” Rí exclaimed.

“So it’s important that you drop everything and sort this out” ordered Michael.

Suddenly there was a clank of metal hitting the floor.

“Not your pants Paddy,” Aisling said tiresomely.

“Oh right. Sorry”

“Paddy, you can have this one. Go down to the team Ciúnas labs with Rí and he’ll sort you out with the items you’ll need.”

Paddy walks towards the door.

“Oh and Paddy put on your coat, you might catch your death.”

“It’ll have to catch me first,”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

And he exits with Rí.

Out back in conservatory of the GPO, there is the lab. The local brains of the Team Eire, the operational side of Ciúnas, are taking him through what is needed.

“Well Paddy how are things. Settling in ok” asked Rí.

“As can be expected” replied Paddy.

“Well I have the perfect items for your trip, some exciting new advancements”

“You are going to Russia, this is your coat” as Rí hands him the coat.

“Ahh so that’s what Michael was referencing when we were leaving the office

“No, it is cold outside that was looking after your health

“So what does this coat do?”

“Well besides protecting you from the cold, this button here at the top of the coat works as a buzz saw, just watch your chin”

“Ah…I see…saw”

“And this second button when pulled will alert the local contact of your whereabouts and help if you are in distress.”

“Any other things”

“Yes, it has this concealed hood”

“For going incognito?”

“No in case it rains”

“And what does this do?” Paddy picks up a matching scarf.

“That is to keep your neck warm. Massive advancement.”

“We also have this. We know how you are good at blowing your money” as Ri turned his back to the desk.

“More money?”

“Not exactly, its Russian money that explodes upon contact when dropped from a height. You remember that mixer I showed you in the first story. Well, that was a Macguffin for this mission”.

“Ahh yes. This brings a new meaning to “Costing a bomb.”

“Yes, quite. Now hop along and sort this crisis, Christmas is coming soon and if I have to endure one more minute of my Nan’s racist comments, I’ll go mad. Mad I tell you.”

 

And off Paddy went to the plane to get to Russia. On board, there is heavy Russia security. Paddy feels eyes on him. It didn’t help the fact that he was watching a really sad Disney film and he was sobbing uncontrollably. It is a 6 hour trip to Moscow, it would need to be on his toes.

Halfway through the flight, passenger 57 pressed his buzzer, it was Mosley Snapes. A famous African American gun for hire that is stuck for cash, he has links with the Russian mafia. Also heavily trained in Martial arts. Paddy and he have an ongoing beef from before Paddy was with the service. Even though Paddy was sure Mosley was getting paid a lot of money, he was sure that Mosley didn’t need that much convincing to attack Paddy.

The air hostess comes to Mosley and he jumps up and grabs her.

“Yo Paddy, you mess me with and the air hostess is going to get it.”

“Ahh Mosley, this isn’t her battle. It’s between you and me. Let her go”

“This is only to get your attention and make sure you listen to what I say”

“I’m just going to Russia, nothing that concerns you”

“Ha, it does concern me, it’s my new job.  You ain’t going to Russia you are going into the Siberian Sea. I hope you brought armbands.”

“That was a long time ago, I’m fine now.”

“Head to the back… nice and slowly.”

As Paddy was escorted out the back, two more goons followed as they were expendable guns for hire not part of the main gang. The real members of Russian mafia didn’t fly economy.

“Ok now open the door” said Mosley.

Paddy opened the door and the air sucked in, as they were quite high in the sky. The temporary imbalance was Paddy’s opportunity, he round house kicked the two guys in the face and then threw them out the emergency door.

Then he karate chopped Mosley in the shoulder causing him to stumble out the emergency door too. The air hostess fell out as well. It was awkward. Paddy turned to the passengers who stared mouth open at what just happened

“It was not my fault there was nothing I could do.” And he closes the door. “Did someone say free drink?”

There was a cheer and the plane was back to normal.

When the plane landed, Paddy looked up to the door. And low and behold there was the air hostess, hanging onto the wing frozen to the side. He pretended not to see her and was congratulated at the airport by the local mayor and made his pleasantries and left. Paddy wasn’t dealing with that shit storm.

Through arrivals, Paddy met with his Russian contact, Ronald Dump.

“You must precede with caution says the walls have ears “

Paddy looked around. However all he could see was concrete.

He took Paddy to a hotel where he settled in and thought about the plan to get the whiskey back.

Looking over the files Paddy saw that Alexander liked to play the exquisite game of connect 4. That was his in. Paddy’s time as top Irish player from age 4 – 6 can finally pay off. Then there was a notice in the things to do there was an international competition on tomorrow night. He would have to be there.

Paddy worked my way through the lower rounds, defeating the lesser people. The colours were randomly chosen, even though every time he got red. Then Paddy got to the semi. Paddy won. He was in the final against the man.

The final was to be the next day. Paddy knew he had to strike tonight not only for the saving of whiskey but also be default winner.

Paddy snuck out of his room and broke into Alexander’s office room. His plans were all there lined out perfectly on the table. “Steal whiskey. Sell for profit.”

Then the light came on

“Ahh Paddy you are so obviously the Irish Secret Service”

“How did you know?”

“Well despite you wearing some merchandise currently in the hat and trousers. It was the shouting ‘Paddy is the greatest spy ever take that. It’s no secret that I beat you. Number 1 Spy. Number 1 Spy’ whilst your hands were aloft when you beat a player.”

“Ahh, I see.”

“Now I’m not your normal villain. I will just kill you I won’t tell you the plan of mine is to control the hard liquor market which for years have eluded us”

“Isn’t that your plan?”

“Shut him up and take him to the cold room.”

With that 2 guards leaped towards Paddy. Paddy grabbed his coat button and it malfunctioned. Paddy had to use the scarf. He defeated the two and now it was his turn to attack. Unfortunately, he was hit by a dart rendering him in a coma.

Paddy woke up surrounded by wood, coffin-like container. He assumed he was buried alive. If he didn’t get out soon he would suffocate. He burst the wood. There was another level. Then another.  And another. Was this never ending? Paddy deduced he was in a Russian Matryoshka doll. He could be here for a long time. He would definitely run out of air.

Then he thought of his jacket. He used the button on the front as a hacksaw and cut his way out. It worked and he broke free. Paddy looked to the sky. Judging by the position of the sun, it being in the sky, It was the next day.

He hadn’t a clue where he was. It was cold and there was nothing around. Then he heard a wolf howling.

“I’m going to be in trouble here. Trouble or someone’s breakfast. Or lunch depends on what time is it.”

Then Paddy saw it. The biggest beast of a wolf ever. The size of a small car. Then there was another, and his mate, then 2 more. Paddy was staring down 5 wolves. Surrounded. This was it. This is how he would die. Then Paddy remembered where he had come out of. The Russian dolls. There are a few sharp edges that he could use as a spear. Rushing over to the box, he tried to break off an edge and throw it at the wolves. But that wouldn’t work, just fell to the ground. Maybe he could use it as a sled. So he jumped in and rowed like he was in a river to create momentum in order to get moving. He ran over one of the wolf’s foot and it howled loudly as he built up speed down the mountain, it was all good. The wolves were still chasing but he was gaining speed and then he hit a massive hill and he was away. They gave up the chase.

Now the new problem was how to stop and avoid trees. He used his weight to weave in and out of the trees, but all the while his speed was picking up Paddy was near the bottom of what he thought was the bottom of the mountain/hill but next thing he was elevated in the air. Must have hit a slope.

Now he is flying about 20 feet in the air and has a real bird’s eye view. He saw a cottage with some smoke coming out of the chimney. But he still needs to land. Paddy spiked in the snow bank and caused a mini avalanche in the air. Paddy was in an air pocket. This wasn’t good.

Then his science brain worked. He had a curry last night. He had a lot of farts built up. If he could fart and set light to it he might create enough of a heat to melt the snow and get out of here. It needed to be open to the air so he slowly maneuvered his pants down and got 2 bits of flint in his shoes and created sparks from my shoes. Then timing it to perfection he farted upon spark and created a bit of a melt. Again, again, again he tries and on the fifth time, he got all the way through. They don’t teach that in the survival class. Paddy saved his ass, with his ass.

He headed towards the cabin. He knocked on the door.

“Sorry anybody at home I could do with some assistance?”

“No speck English.”

“No, I’m Irish.”

“Ahh Irlandskis, Ronnie Whelan,”

Paddy remembered Ronnie scored a screamer against USSR back in the day. He must have limited TV if that’s a standout moment in his life. Then Paddy channeled his inner Ronnie Whelan slide on his knees to emulate the celebration he did for the score. The man invites Paddy in affectionately. There is literally a fortress. He seems to have a hunting cabin. He is also topless. This is a hard man.

“Can I use your interweb? Dial up?” described Paddy through shouting and charades.

“Sure” and he leads him to an advanced office out the back.

He actually has broadband.

Paddy needed to first find out where he was and then find how to get back to civilisation to stop Alexandars plan.

Paddy had no idea where he was. He pulled the second button on his coat. There was a flashing light and flair spouted out of his back and shot out through the skylight and into the air.

It exploded in the sky and a ‘Help, I’m Irish’ signal came up.

Within 5 minutes mountain rescue was there and Paddy was ready to get into town.

He asked the help what time it was. It was 6.30. He still had time for the competition the final was in 30 minutes.

“To Crocus City Hall immediately” he instructed the driver as he pointed in some direction, Paddy wasn’t sure if it was the correct way.

The man who had helped Paddy had come out to see him off.

“Ehh aren’t you going to pay for my window? Winter is coming” begged the man in broken English.

“Looks like much like Ronnie I’m ‘Whelan’ out of here” Paddy replied smartly.

The Jeep went nowhere.

“Ehh how much is it?”

After Paddy cleared the bill, they went to the City Hall to face Alexander.

It was a full house of supporters, all for the russian and Paddy and Alexander are beside each other off stage.

“I can’t wait to have a celebratory Russian whiskey when I beat you. Are you ready to lose in front of this massive crowd?”

“Your mother” retorted Paddy.

“What have you heard?” questioned Alexander.

Which Paddy thought was a weird answer to his taunt but focused on the game.

An Announcer came onto the stage

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to The Crocus City hall where we have the event of the year. The Grand FINAL of the ‘Russian Whiskey is good’ Invitational Connect 4 Tournament”

“Is the red corner all the way from Ireland you may know him as Paddy O’Shaughnessy Irish secret agent but for cover purposes he is Hugh O Donahue!”

The crowd booed so loudly the whole building shook.

“And in the yellow corner, the organiser of the competition Alexander Kopov”

There was a loud scream of delight for Alexandar.

“Communists” muttered Paddy.

 

This is just a Sample. If you want more, let me know.

 

 

Paddy O’Shaughnessy will return in

“A Cause for Concern”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s